


Cowboy and His Kept Boy

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: M/M, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-20
Updated: 2007-12-20
Packaged: 2019-06-12 08:27:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15335856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: Lindsey takes advantage of Spike's loneliness.





	Cowboy and His Kept Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ruuger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruuger/gifts).



> My first Splindsey! I was aching for a nice one-shot FMK request and I think I found my inspiration here! I've always loved Linds, and never tried to write him before. Hope I did the cowboy justice, and lived up to the request "no bashing of anyone" - well... Linds doesn't come across perfect, and there might be a TEENY bit of angel-bashing... but who can resist a little Angel Bash? Hrm?
> 
> Hope you like!

Lindsey walked into the dingy basement apartment to find Spike, as usual, enjoying all of the technological marvels of year-before-last’s video games. He sighed and plopped himself down on the sofa next to him, kicking his cowboy boots up on the TV’s little stand.

“You’re blockin’ the view!” Spike said, nudging Lindsey’s legs hard with his elbow, not pausing his game.

“It’s my apartment, isn’t it?” Lindsey replied with a smile and plucked a beer bottle from the floor. Half-empty, but still cold. Convenient. He grinned at Spike’s distracted glare, caught between defending his beverage and making it to the end of the level.

Spike settled for mashing controller buttons extra hard. Lindsey could hear the plastic straining as the vampire swung his arms frantically, as though moving the controller would make his cartoon avatar respond that much quicker.

Lindsey watched him, amazed at all the intensity he was pouring into his videogame. Muscles stood out, tense and twitching on his forearms and up into the tight sleeves of his t-shirt. (And he’d thought Angel was a fine looking hunk of corpse.)

Lindsey smacked his lips. Nope, he hadn’t come down too far in the world, all told. Sure, this crap apartment, plus his own new place, together came to a lot less than his old luxury condo cost per month. But he’d started low and even if Spike’s place had been his only accommodation, well, he still wouldn’t be down as far as he started. And he’d never had anything as pretty as Spike in his condo.

He paused in thought, briefly considering his old sound system. Nope, not even that. Penny for penny, Spike was much more entertaining.

The vampire’s eyes flicked to Lindsey again and again, between necessary moves to keep his game alive. “What are you starin’ at, Texas?”

Lindsey shrugged. “My investment,” he said, and took another swig.

“Well I hate to break it to you, but investments return profits, mate. We get dick-all.”

Lindsey rested the beer bottle on the back of the couch, scooting closer to Spike. “We get the undying gratitude of rescued innocents and the clear conscience of the righteous.” He tilted his head back, smiling with dazzling insincerity.

Another quick flick of intense blue eyes. “Try not to make it sound like a breakfast cereal.” More frantic button-mashing. “Doesn’t pay the bills. Arg!” A minor chord progression announced the death of Spike’s cartoon monkey. He tossed the controller at the cheap TV. “Always the damn banana race gets me.” He stood and flicked the playstation off, glancing back at Lindsey, who was stretched out on the couch now, both arms up, grinning like the cat who roomed with the canary and was just biding his time. “Speaking of. How DO you pay the bills round here, Doyle? Can’t have that demanding a career, spending all your time watching me collect power-ups.”

Lindsey tossed a hand up in dismissal. “Random debilitating headache’s aren’t thrilling the potential employers, either, let me tell you. Nah, I had some money saved up, before this happened.” He waved at his head and took another sip of beer. “Lucky for both of us, huh? I can keep you in style.”

Spike turned slowly in the center of the apartment, making sure Lindsey got the full sarcastic meaning of his raised eyebrow before heading to the fridge for another beer. “Why don’t you make with the headache, mate. Yours, not mine. Been ages since I saved the day.” Spike threw himself into the lone kitchenette chair and raised his beer in salute.

Lindsey chuckled. “Doesn’t work like that, champ. If I could have them at will we’d make this a nine-to-five gig.”

That morning Eve had worn a silk negligee that was practically a handkerchief with strings, and did nothing to hide her lithe, young body as she straddled his hips. He’d asked her about possibly taking advantage of his ‘kept boy’ and she’d responded with a pout. “Don’t I have a gorgeous enough body for you, baby?”

“You have a fabulous everything, darlin’,” he said, running his hands up her thighs. “But come on, if you were in my place, wouldn’t you want to? I’d let you. It’s not cheatin’, not really, if we both know and agree to it.”

She’d bit her lip in that adorable way of hers. “I suppose, if it was me, I’d want a chance.” She wriggled her hips, causing him to groan and press against her.

His jeans had felt just as painfully tight as they did now. Oh that Eve. What had he done to deserve her?

Spike tilted back his beer, long white throat working to suck back every last drop. Damn.

Lindsey got up. “Enjoying my beer?”

Spike scowled. “It’s MY beer. I bought it. You’d probably get that Bud shite.”

“Don’t stereotype, it’s unprofessional,” Lindsey set his empty bottle beside Spike’s on the card table. “Plenty of Texans like effeminate foreign beers.”

Spike’s brows crinkled together, regarding Lindsey, or rather Lindsey’s stomach, since the Texan was standing so close. “Something I can help you with, mate?”

“Always liked that word,” Lindsey said, rolling his head back as though savoring it. He put his hands on Spike’s shoulders and slid his legs over the vampire’s. “’Mate’. It’s cute. All you British dudes calling each other that. Might be why some folks think y’all are fags.” He dropped onto Spike’s lap, smiling down at the stunned expression. “’Course some folks say that about vampires, too.”

Spike’s jaw was tight. “Doyle, you got four seconds to get off my lap or I will hurt you.”

“Not a very heroic thing to say.”

Lindsey laughed as he staggered back, thrown by stronger-than-human hands.

Spike’s chair clattered against the opposite wall as the vampire stood. “What the fuck?”

“Come on,” Lindsey shrugged. “Who pays the bills here, huh? Who buys the beer? Can’t I get a little peck on the cheek when I come home in exchange for all my hard work?”

Spike sneered, “You that hard up, cowboy? Pretty boy like you can’t find a beatin’ heart to rub up against?”

Lindsey tilted his head back, long bangs swinging out of his eyes. “No. Just like what I see. Thought you wouldn’t mind, being on the lonesome side yourself.” He made a show of carefully checking himself over for injury. “Anyway, the powers-that-be gave me visions. They didn’t ask me to pony up my own cash to provide the vampire champion with a roof, shower, and beer. You got someone else lined up to take care of you? Or, what? You’ll fall back on a life of crime? How would the old soul sit with that?”

Oh look at that jaw work, Lindsey thought, as Spike turned his face away. His fists clenched. “I’m grateful,” he said, chewing the words out like hard gristle. “Never said I wasn’t.”

“Hey… sorry. Can we go back? I’ll play you a game…” Lindsey’s cell phone interrupted him. He sighed and pulled it out. “Gotta take this. It’s work.”

Lindsey ducked quickly into the tiny bathroom. “This is Doyle,” he said, his signal to Eve that Spike was in hearing distance.

“You tap that vampire ass yet?”

Lindsey nearly dropped the phone and caught a glimpse of his wide grin in the bathroom mirror. “You kiss your momma with that mouth?” He turned on the sink for white noise.

“You know I do all kinds of terrible things with my mouth,” her voice was rich with suppressed laughter. “Anyway, not much time to talk, baby, just got word a displacer beast is ravaging the waterfront. Big ‘n broody’s giving it a pass since it’s not a residential area and he has a ten o’clock. Time to call in a champion?”

“Suppose so. Damn. I was getting close too. Thanks, Darlin’.”

Lindsey snapped the phone shut and then washed his hands.

Spike was back at the couch, shuffling through his games, trying to decide on which to play next.

“Sorry about that,” Lindsey said again, jerking his thumb at the bathroom door. “Anyway, what you got? Something with a race?” He practically skipped up to the sofa, making sure the ‘vision headache’ hit him at a random point, mid-step. He fell onto the couch. “Ah!”

Spike, used to this by now, just scooted aside. “Whatcha got, Doyle?”

***

Alone in the apartment, Lindsey woke with a start when his phone started ringing. “Hello?”

“Linds, did Spike leave already?”

He wiped a hand over his face. “Well, yeah. That’s why I didn’t answer ‘This is Doyle’.”

“Crap.”

“Something wrong?”

“No… just Angel blew off his ten o’clock and is heading after the displacer beast!”

“Relax. Our boy had a head start. He should get there first. Even if he doesn’t, babe, we don’t need to land every bad guy – just a higher percentage than Mr. Sell-Out. And it isn’t going to be hard.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about. Angel’s real tense. What if he decides to hack our champion into vampire kibble?”

“Won’t happen. Angel’s not like that.”

“How do you know? He locked you in a room with Darla and Drusilla!”

“Baby, I know.” Lindsey settled back down on the couch with a sigh and smiled at the cracked ceiling. “I had a vision.”

***

The displacer whipped its tails like the ribboned ends of a battle flag, stalking along the top of a warehouse, its growl permeating the alley.

Bugger had already teleported seven times, once just seconds from Spike’s sword piercing its heart. Spike paced, matching the beast, eyes locked with it. He could climb up there now, but the bugger could just blink out the moment he got there. He was already panting from the merry chase, and the displacer definitely wasn’t.

A flutter of leather coat-tails suddenly appeared on an adjacent rooftop. A glint of blade, and a jump. The displacer turned, hissed, and vanished.

Spike took one step forward and had a face full of black fur and fangs. “Bugger!” he hacked and the displacer vanished again. Claws swiped at his neck from behind. He whirled, the cat-like demon circled.

Angel landed on its back with a sword right through its spine.

“You bastard!” Spike said, face to face with Angel as he straightened from his crouch.

The displacer’s tails whipped in death throes. Spike jumped aside and sliced the poisoned tips off.

Angel wiped his sword on the top of the beast. “What are you doing here, Spike?”

“Got a call. Evil nasty people-killing kitty. What are YOU doing here?”

“My job.”

“Really? Thought your job was signing paper for Evil, Incorporated.”

The two vampires squared up, glaring at each other. Each had a sword in hand, each had a wall of anger inside him, and neither had ever felt as far from the other as now, when their lives were suddenly so parallel.

“It’s my destiny, Spike. Go home. Better yet, go find Drusilla. You don’t care about helping the helpless. Even if you did, you care for the wrong reasons.”

“You don’t know what my reasons are. You never did. You’re so high up your own arse you have to…”

“Right. I’m self-involved. That’s why I’m going home to a high-rise full of friends, Spike. Why every girl you ever loved wanted me. Go home. No one likes you.”

Angel felt how childish his words were, but could not be moved to stop himself. He indulged a moment in the hurt Spike couldn’t hide. He rested his sword on his shoulder and walked off, knowing that his high-rise full of friends felt like an empty prison, and his destiny was a tainted and hollow possession.

***

Lindsey jumped up from the couch, genuine concern etched in his features. “Hey, you all right, champ?”

“Look that bad, do I?” Spike closed the door behind himself and started straight for the shower, shrugging out of his coat and letting it fall. “Nasty buggers, displacer beasts. Poison tails. Not everyone knows that. Could easily stab the sucker and die yourself standing over it like a bleedin’ super-hero posing for the comic book.”

Lindsey gathered up the coat automatically, draping it over the TV. “Want to talk about it?”

Spike turned at the bathroom door, wrist on the doorjamb, one hand on the bottom of his t-shirt, ready to pull it off. “Do you like me, Doyle? I mean, me, not how I look or the vampire thing, but me?”

Lindsey’s smile was wide and bright. “Shit. How could I not? You’re funny and tough and…” he bit back ‘cute’. “Hell, son, when the powers first sent me to seek out this vampire with a soul, I was half afraid you’d be…” he shrugged and the smile turned sly, “some self-absorbed joyless prick, woe-is-me-ing through eternity.”

Spike’s eyes widened a little, and a measure of tension left his face. Lindsey had to bite his tongue hard to keep a trace of smug from appearing on his face, self-congratulations at figuring out what was unsaid. But how hard was it, really? Wasn’t it ALWAYS Angel?

Lindsey reached up to touch Spike’s cheek, and Spike, with a sigh, leaned into the touch. “Thanks.” He shook his head, stepping back out of what had almost become an embrace. “I just… needed to hear that.”

Lindsey took Spike’s place, standing in the bathroom door while the vampire pulled his t-shirt off and started the water in the shower. “Nothing I need to take a look at, is there? Don’t want my champion suffering in silence.”

“Vampire. Just need to wash the blood off and then poor some fresh blood in. Nothing to worry yourself about.”

But Lindsey stayed in the open bathroom door, watching. “If the next words out of your mouth are ‘mustn’t grumble’, so help me I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Spike looked up in shock, and then smiled. “Right. Well then, I hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. It isn’t fair. And I’m gonna be bitching and moaning all night.” Spike turned, a little embarrassed. Ever since the soul he’d had the oddest remnants of Victorian body-shyness that he had to fight down every time he undressed. Where was the confidence that had let him bare all in front of Captain Cardboard back in the day?

Determinedly keeping his eyes away from the door, Spike stepped into the shower and felt the warm water start to sluice the grit and battle from him. He rested his forearms on the wall and sighed.

The shower-curtain pulled back. He turned in surprise to see Lindsey step in behind him, naked and proud as the most soulless demon on the planet, his handsome face beaming, bright teeth and bright eyes against tanned skin.

Spike turned completely, taking in the sight. “So they do go all the way down.”

Lindsey ran a hand down a lightly downy thigh, tracing a curl of black like a tentacle embracing him. “Cost a bitch-fortune too. Twelve appointments under the needle. But worth it. Hand me the soap, champ.”

Spike stared at him, but complied, handing over the soap from its dish under the shower knobs.

Lindsey lathered up his hands and stepped up to Spike. “Come on, now,” he ran a hand over Spike’s side, soap making skin slide over skin. “What are you so upset about? Someone doesn’t like you? Shit, someone likes you right here. I’m gonna take care of you, right? You’re MY champion.”

And Spike rested against the shower wall while Lindsey ran soap over his arms, his back, his chest and stomach. The Texan was stockier than Spike, well-muscled in his torso and legs. He stepped close enough that those muscles bumped, sliding over Spike at random points, hard and firm, yet downy hair catching the soap and adding a cushion of foam.

“Why…?”

“Sh. Just relax.”

And Spike did. He was surprised how much he’d been holding onto, how relieved he felt just giving in. His head rolled against his arm on the shower wall while he watched Doyle’s (Lindsey’s) darker hands spreading lather over him.

Lindsey slipped his hand around Spike’s cock, letting it slide the length and off the tip with a squelch. He did it again and felt the difference, length expanding, thickening. Another luxurious slide and it’s almost all the way. The foreskin stretched just a bit as he pulled, cupping the tip and squeezing it like he wanted to get all the soap off.

Spike shuddered but didn’t otherwise react. His arms propped on the shower wall, he watched Lindsey’s hand.

“Legs apart a bit more,” Lindsey said, and his other hand traced the globe of one cheek. “You’re a little taller than me.” He sounded proud.

Spike nodded and complied. The warm hands felt nice, unhurried, sliding around his skin. He felt a shin caress his calf, up and down.

Suddenly a wet, hot mouth was teasing his earlobe. Every pore on the left side of his body stood to attention. Human teeth tugged. “Can we turn up the heat, vampire? This water’s luke-warm to my taste.”

Spike fumbled with the shower controls, turning the heat up while saliva mingled with water along the back edge of his jaw. He stretched his neck, eyes closed against the spray.

It was hotter than Spike would have liked, and the combination of hot water and a hot body behind him had him feeling boiled, his skin tight and his blood almost pulsing.

Lindsey kept up the slow torture, caressing and feeling, slowly adjusting Spike’s pliant body, just an inch this way and that, arms higher on the wall, legs even further apart, hand stroking from one thigh to the other, lingering, soaping heavy balls, rubbing them up, cupping them, and bringing warmth to smooth skin that had none of its own.

“Are you gonna fuck me, cowboy, or tease me to death?”

Lindsey chuckled at the gasping desperation. “Well, I was going to, but now that second option sounds much more fun.” He switched to the other side of Spike’s head, nibbling that earlobe in its turn. The vampire’s knees flexed. Lindsey immediately dropped his hands to his thighs. “Hey now, no moving ‘til I say.”

Spike shivered, helplessly turned on by the hint of dominance. “Bloody hell, Doyle, I’m going to combust!”

“You know what? No talking, either.” Lindsey playfully slapped one butt-cheek. “You talk too much.”

Spike opened and closed his mouth, tasting hot water, galvanized pipes, and plastic showerhead.

Lindsey slithered around him, reaching for the shampoo. He rubbed his cheek along Spike’s side, laughing at the sensation – skin on skin was so wonderful. He let his whole chest rub over Spike’s back, back and forth like he was scrubbing with it.

Then he opened the shampoo, squeezed out a blob, and threw the bottle aside. Spike leaned forward just a little bit more, though he’d been told not to move. Lindsey smiled. He rubbed his hands together, spreading the shampoo, then reached… up and started lathering Spike’s hair.

The vampire shook his head, but Lindsey persisted, fingertips massaging every inch of scalp, sculpting curls up into whirls and fantasy landscapes. Spike bucked against him, his neck swaying like it was unhinged.

Lindsey laughed and switched to scrubbing his own scalp rather perfunctorily.

He’d let himself suffer long enough, he felt the length of his own cock, straining helplessly upward. He ran shampoo-slick hands over it in quick succession, like milking a cow. He stepped forward and let his dick slide under Spike’s ass, along his balls. He reached around and felt for his cock-head under Spike, tugged it and then ran in one motion along Spike’s length. Knees wobbled all around. “Like that? Want to feel more?”

Spike nodded. Lindsey strained against him, flexed his thighs, refusing to use his hands, just yet, let his dick press and search frantically for purchase. Spike groaned, deep and resonant. Lindsey relented and slid his hand into that soapy crack, finding his rosy little pucker and fingering it gently. “Fuck. Need more soap. Water keeps washing it away.”

Lindsey broke contact and Spike felt he’d fall over without him while the cowboy scampered after the shampoo. Then he was thankfully back, one arm wrapped around Spike’s middle as he worked cold, fruit-smelling gel into him.

“I’m the one who’s here for you. I’m the one who’s going to take care of you,” Lindsey whispered. “No one else.”

His round cock-head nudged forward, nestled into resistant skin. Spike pressed back, felt himself opening up, always the twinge, too hard, too fast, but then he was sliding in, all the way in, delicious friction slick, spreading and soothing.

Somehow, Lindsey made fucking as slow and torturous as the caressing and washing. He kept his pace slow, sliding in carefully, then pressing his whole body tight to Spike, like he could banish the separation of skin, and only when the sensations dissipated to almost nothing did he slowly pull back again.

He saw Spike’s throat straining and knew it was driving the vampire insane to be silent. He kissed that pale column, nipped it until goose-flesh stood out red against the constant stream of water.

“Uh. Gonna loose myself in you,” Lindsey moaned, “Never gonna want to leave.”

Spike bucked against him, jamming hard, trying to force the pace. He grabbed the narrow hips and held as hard as he could against the vampire’s superior strength. “Now now. None of that. Nice and slow. Nice… and slow.”

Spike could easily have forced the issue. Could easily have thrown Lindsey against the wall and fucked him hard and fast as an electric trip-hammer. But he didn’t. That was the beautiful thing. He whimpered, deep in his throat, and held still as he could while Lindsey made love to him.

Only when the water started getting cool around them did Lindsey pick up the pace. He thrust hard, making heat with body friction, reaching around to pump the cock in front of him like it was his own. They shook and strained and cried to their climax.

It was all knees and elbows rinsing off, the shower stall suddenly too small, too cold and dingy. They limped together to the small bed, wrapping their wet bodies in the blankets and holding tight to make most of the narrow mattress.

Lindsey kissed Spike’s shoulder. “Going to say something?”

“Mean I can now?”

“Game’s over.” Lindsey ran a hand over rapidly cooling flesh. “Wanna hear that filthy mouth of yours.”

“Perv. ‘M not…”

“What?”

“Stupid. You’ll think I’m a poof.”

“I just fucked you, asshole. Come on.”

“Just… thanks, Doyle. At least I don’t have to worry about YOU only wanting to be with me because you can’t have Angel,” Spike said. “You haven’t met the git.”

And if Lindsey’s smile got a little tighter, it was hidden by him pressing his face into Spikes back and kissing, kisses that were silent offerings for forgiveness.

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by ruuger on October 23, 2007.
> 
> "What I want is a story set during that time Spike was Lindsey's "kept boy" with Spike trying to be a hero and Lindsey taking advantage of his loneliness. I'd prefer mindgames rather than outright non-con or BDSM, but as long as Spike is the sub, the rest of the details for the sexy stuff is up to you. And no bashing of anyone, not even Eve - hey, they don't call this a challenge for nothing ;P"


End file.
